


A meeting of Arwen and Maglor

by AllonsyMiddleEarth



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Lorien - Freeform, Lothlórien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2374535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllonsyMiddleEarth/pseuds/AllonsyMiddleEarth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting of Arwen and Maglor; they meet in Lórien, two wandering elves after nearly all others have gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A meeting of Arwen and Maglor

Arwen, in her position on a branch of a large tree, had been silent and motionless long enough that it was no surprise the other elf did not know she was there, elven senses aside.   
  
But when she heard him and startled, he startled much more than she had.  
  
“Wait!” She cried as he turned to run from her. It had been so long since she talked to another. She had not realized she still wished to. But it seemed her longing for company went deeper than she had allowed herself to realize; she was not long for this world at all and she did want company, if only for a moment.  
  
He stopped and turned back slowly, walking towards her.   
  
“Who are you?” He questioned in a strangely hoarse voice for an elf. His Sindarin had a strange accent to it too. “I thought all elves had left these parts.”  
  
“As did I.” Arwen raised an eyebrow. “I am Arwen Undómiel,former Queen of Gondor. This land was last ruled by my grandparents, before they left with their people.”   
  
At hearing her name the elf gave a slight gasp and stared at her with wide eyes. He looked as if he might run again, and Arwen hoped he wouldn’t. She had not the strength to chase anyone for long.   
  
“Who are you?” She asked softly. She had a strange idea she might know…  
  
“Have you not guessed?” He smiled, joylessly, but not unkindly. “I am Maglor, son of Fëanor.”  
  
“Maglor.” She breathed. So she was right. “My father always spoke highly of you, always.” He should know that, she thought. “And he would be glad to know you are well…if well is the right word. He would be glad to know you are alive, anyway.”   
  
Maglor turned his head away at her words, and it took a few long moments before he spoke again.   
  
“Thank you. It is an honor to meet you,” he said at last. “daughter of Elrond.”  
  
“As it is you.” Arwen told him, but he shook his head.   
  
“I should not impose my company on you any longer…” He glanced away. “I will leave if you wish me to.”   
  
“No!” She didn’t mean to sound desperate. “Please, it has been a long while since I spoke to anyone, or listened to anything but the sorrow in my own mind. I could use the company, if you do not mind.”   
  
“I will stay.” She saw a hint of a smile seem to cross his face. “But I fear I could only add to your sorrow, I have much of my own.”

“All the more reason you should stay.” Arwen told him kindly.

  
She climbed slowly down from the tree and joined him. They sat together against the trunk of the large tree Arwen had just been sitting in.   
  
“Why have you returned to Lórien?” She ventured to ask after a moment.   
  
“For the same reason, if I guess correctly, that you have.” He answered. “When alone, it brings me comfort to feel the welcome of a land that used to hold such great a people as this one. Besides, your grandmother told me long ago that I would always be welcome here; though I never came while her people remained.“  
  
“She used to tell us stories of all of you in Tirion.” Arwen smiled reminiscently, her mind wandering to golden afternoons when she was young, and she and her brothers would listen to Galadriel’s tales of life over the sea.   
  
“Much has happened since then.” Maglor sighed.   
  
“You are still family.” Arwen reminded him softly. “That always mattered to her, even after all else happened.”   
  
She knew her grandmother had never forgiven her kin for what had happened, and certainly her grandfather had not. Neither of her grandfathers, she was sure. And none of them ever would. They may have been kind enough to him, and Galadriel did value family. But it didn’t change what happened; it didn’t change who he and his brothers had hurt. Maglor surely knew that, and nothing Arwen said would make him feel differently about it.  
  
Maglor didn’t answer, and changed the subject after a moment.  
  
“The world is changing; all memories of the Eldar race will one day fade in these lands. There are still echoes of them here, though less and far fewer as time goes on.”   
  
Arwen nodded; she felt the same.

“There will come a time where there is no place in this world for such an old traveler as I, even if I continue to live in secret.” He continued sadly.   
  
“Then why do you remain still?”   
  
“I am the last of my family who remains, save my mother, I do hope. I feel I owe it to them to live on. To carry our memories in song, even if it is just to myself. Or it all may be lost. But also because I fear judgment, and I am ashamed to admit that is part of it. I do not know what I shall face in Mandos when the day for me to fade does come.”  
  
Arwen took his hand comfortingly and said nothing.   
  
“It makes my fate seem so easy, in perspective.” She said finally. “ I know not where I go, but I know why.”   
  
“I do not think either of our fates are easy, Arwen. But I am glad they crossed, truly.” He squeezed her hand gently.   
  
“Wherever it is your fate of death leads you, you shall meet Elros.” He said slowly.   
  
“Yes.” She nodded. “Would you like me to tell him anything for you?”   
  
“Tell him…” Maglor looked thoughtful, then pained. “I can not think of anything that will not make things worse.”   
  
“I will tell him that you continue on, and that the world is still blessed to be graced by your song.” Arwen offered, and Maglor gave a small but true smile.   
  
“Thank you.” He said softly.   
  
  
The two lone travelers stayed together in Lorien for the rest of those days. They did not speak of much; they spoke some of Elrond, of their other family, and once or twice Maglor sang some old tales for her, but mostly they were silent, mutually understanding their fates and their grief.   
  
Arwen faded a little more with each passing day and it did not escape Maglor’s notice.   
  
When finally it came time for her to fade they did not say a true farewell, but Maglor stayed with her until the end. He sang a lament for her grief, and a hope for her in where death would take her. The last thing Arwen Evenstar heard was the voice of the greatest of singers to live among the Eldar, as he sang to mark her parting, from the world fading of memories of her race, in what was the fairest dwellings of their people in those last days.


End file.
